Just a Taste
by Stand-of-Fish
Summary: Tasia gets to meet King T'Challa who seemed to be a big fan of America's Halloween. Especially Bram Stoker's Dracula. Funnily enough, she dressed as ripe little Mina for the taking.


T'Challa wondered what was going on with himself as he stood in front of the full body-length mirror. He had been sweating heavily as a blast of pure, hot hunger, which hit him an hour ago raged on. He attempted for the third time to stretch the arms of his dashiki inspired blazer, which clung tight to his arms and showed off thick muscles with no success.

Being uncomfortable and hungry was just not on the agenda of the King's tonight.

He gave up with a shake of his head and thanked Bast that he was able to blot away the unwanted moisture on his forehead and neck after a few minutes of meticulous drying, making sure that he got every spot. The towel, barely dampened was handed off to him per his request by a server who could not keep her eyes off of him. Her eyes, unnaturally predatory- roamed his body before taking her time to leave. He shivered and smiled graciously, if not uncomfortably at her before thanking and sending her away. After all, it paid to be polite even in the face of possibly compromising situations.

He was supposed to be the predator after all. But that one. He'd have to watch out for her as he filed away her face for later use so he could avoid her.

Not wanting to deal with her lust or anyone else's adding fuel to the fire, or even bringing about the monstrous side of himself too early into the night before getting a chance to enjoy the celebration- he barred entry of his rooms to everyone but the Dora Milaje. He wasn't impulsive or dangerous. Just grumpy and even more hungrier than before.

Thinking about the meal he leisurely enjoyed not even 24 hours ago. He was under the assumption that he could make it through the day with no hindrances such as this. He always fed a full day before events and meetings because it was never good to deal with stress on a full stomach, especially for him. Vampires rejecting blood because of their bodies stress factors never bode well for any one Vampire. They either sweat it out or vomited point blank unless they could quickly find a bathroom. Otherwise, the room would look like a scene from the original Carrie film as she went on a vengeful, murderous rage. It didn't help that his fangs, now that he thought about it, slid out so quickly from their hidden spaces in his gums which made him groan in bliss-the sweet pressure being lifted from his head.

With everyone on his team throwing their all into a Wakandan inspired Halloween party after Shuri told him and their mother about it 6 years ago. She made sure to show him holo-vids, photos and even planned invites to other celebrations accordingly. T'Challa could not deny being a bit jealous himself that his sister had been able to enjoy those parties while he'd had to stay back and deal with diplomatic and international affairs.

He. Was. Hooked.

They'd made it tradition to host a festival or party every year after that moment. The small Panther clan had come to love every bit of the holiday with its spooky decorations, costumes, candies and traditions behind it. Especially the pumpkin-carving.

It was so easy to try to incorporate things form their culture into it and create a mix by tracing traditional clan and tribal masks into the largest of pumpkins and painted with family colors by elders and children. The last bits which were the preferable Kimoyo bead lamplight that switched on and off with the snap of the fingers and levitated, ave off no heat. They made the decorative plant-based ornaments shine like no other.

Seeing his people in Wakanda and America coming together just to enjoy themselves this way always made him happy. He was surprised and awed at seeing his and his sister's ideas, really her work, first hand. It made for integration and home bases go smoother than anything else they'd ever done. Schooling and better job opportunities for their brothers and sisters and their children, a close second. They were the number one priority by all means to build trust and support; but having the funds and proper locations for safety, security and functionality was always preferable.

Halloween had made him hungrier than any other time of the year for whatever reason. He once briefly considered it being what the Americans called it- the Harvest Moon, which could've been a possibility that aided in affecting him but quickly brushed it away. He wasn't superstitious but he did have sets of religious and magical practices that he followed within his own culture.

He was ever curious about mortals who would dress up as supernatural creatures and parade around ad if they were nothing more than masks, stories. They were very brave to parade around as creatures they didn't know existed beside them, truly roamed the world. It was for one night anyway so why bother?

Giving himself a cursory once over and sniff before nodding to himself in confirmation that he was ready to go down to the party as soon as he was notified of the last guest arriving.

Okoye approached the doorway of T'Challa's open wardrobe hesitantly. "My King-Are you alright?" She asked after some time, frowning. She stepped further into the room and noticed that her King was silently brooding. He was a little paler than usual, almost like a ashy tone took ahold.

He looked to be in the beginning stages of his hunger.

It didn't feel right. She escorted the numerous donors to and from his personal quarters herself and assumed him to be adequately satisfied after he signaled he was done for the night just the other day. She immediately stepped forward and offered up her wrist.

She inquired again, but softly this time sympathetically. "My king?"

Snapping out of his almost trance, he looked at her and politely declined. Covering his mouth, he muffled out, "I should be fine Okoye. I still do have blood in the cooler." He motioned to the compact fridge with a clear door with his free hand. Three drawers stacked on top of the other holding bags of cold blood that would be quick and somewhat filling until he could get his next warm meal.

Okoye waited a moment for any change, T'Challa's eyes crinkled in delight and appreciation at her thoughts of him as she tapped the bottom of her spear before excusing herself.

This was one of the moments where he needed a little time to get his thoughts together.

One hour later~

T'Challa sighed and snatched a packet of Universal blood out of the cooler and snarled before biting into it. Careful not to make a mess of his outfit for tonight, he sucked the thick, cold blood down quickly and greedily. Once the plastic crinkled with emptiness in his hands, he threw the empty packet into the trash with precision from his chair. A booming voice as soon as it made it into the basket came from nowhere. "A perfect 3 points brother! Are you ready for the party? Everyone is accounted for and gathering into the main room."

Shuri walked over to her brother and began brushing off invisible dust from the shoulder of his blazer and handed him a hat which perfectly added to his look.

"You look good brother!"

"So do you sister." He glanced curiously at her well put together cosplay of a character from a show called Cannon Busters. S. A. M. as he recalled. from a 'fire anime' as her and her American friends mentioned.

T'Challa stood and grinned down at his sister before hugging her tight. Thinking about the not so recent fight, slash inner country war that happened with Erik and traitors from their country who believed violence was the answer. it wasn't as if T'Challa was blind to his people's plight outside of Wakanda. He just didn't know what to do or how to react to it at all, admitting that he was foolish not to take a stand for what was right. It took for a near death-ass beating, a spirit talk with his Baba and some serious soul searching to truly realize how beneficial it would be to reach out with resources his people needed. Their people everywhere regardless of who liked it or not.

Shuri snatched back, yanking T'Challa out of his musings and patted his shoulders once more.

"Well, I think that's enough of that brother." A knowing and sad smile ghosted her face as she dragged him from his wardrobe and room. "Come, we must see everyone and their ideas for this year. You might even get new features on your suit brother!"

"A tease sister, the suit is fine as it is so nothing funny this time. I'm onto you." He linked his arm through Shuri's and dutifully followed where she lead.

With a soft, shlik, his fangs pulled back into their homes. The move reminding him of how his hunger was abated for now but he would still have to be careful around the guests so that there wasn't any unexpected feats or surprises.

A comfortable pause fell over the Udaku siblings on their short journey to the downstairs wing where guests waited.

"Shuri... Do you ever find yourself hungrier during this time of the year?"

Watching her face for any symptoms, Shuri shook her head no.

"Maybe it is just you brother. There are more people than last year's celebration showing up so it may be just your hunger. Excitement maybe. Is that why you had an emergency blood packet?"

He nodded after a pregnant pause, noting that since he had become the Panther, he'd grown thirstier than he generally was. Never taking more than 1-2 liters of blood from designated donors who lived near the house he currently owned and resided in.

Maybe this was another effect of him being stronger, faster, smarter after being brought back to life. He needed to compensate for the changes in his body and mind.

"Well let us get to this party before we are late and mother kills us both." Excitement in his tone as they grew closer to the music seeping out double doors ahead.

"Agreed brother." Shuri nodded and sped up toward the main hall where four Dora were standing guard, doors open to guests piling in from the foyer still.

With a nod, they acknowledged their King and Princess, who adjusted her wig before hooting and running into the crowd, joining her friends.


End file.
